Fifty Years

Ever since the Yom Kippur War I’d been waiting for August 17th 1975. That morning I hugged my parents and set off alone. Those days no self-respecting 18-year-old would allow his parents to accompany him to the recruitment gates of the IDF.

Israel was still reeling from the Yom Kippur War. I soon had a never-smiling officer certified with PTSD, and a company commander who should’ve been. The trauma of the war permeated our training. Being young, we weren’t afraid of fighting or dying; but we were apprehensive about sharing tents with the loud and rough-looking soldiers from other corners of society. My third day in the army I worked in the kitchen, lorded over by a cruel badmouth. It was soul-crushing, and it was going to continue for Three. Whole. Years. Would we ever return to a normal civilian life, such as we’d just so blithely left........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)